I'd Like For You To Meet My Chainsaw
by usmccanthem
Summary: One-shot from Ellis' POV. This is about how much he truly loves his chainsaw and what he does with it. Has some adult language, disgusting descriptions and is not advisable for those who do not like "the plush flesh shredding, bone crunching, and saw whirring." But then it's L4D, what are you doing here? Please R & R!


**I'd Like To Introduce You To My Chainsaw!**

My heart beat with a quick and steady thud. The gurgle of screams and delirious wails sliced through the air like my chainsaw slices through zombified flesh. My eyes darted from side to side as I searched in all the nooks and crannies of the buildings and high grass around me. I quickly inhaled the smell of sewage and rotting flesh, catching the wet, humid smell of rain that was to come. My booted feet landed jarringly on the dry ground, occasionally slipping on the decaying organs of humans that had become a zombies lunch, causing my steps to falter and feel the sensation of the ground coming out from under me before my foot hits the dirt again. Sweat literally poured off of me in the humid heat that was accustomed to the south. My yellow shirt had dimmed to lurid mustard with sweat and dirt covering it completely and my hat had darkened to a grass green as the sweat pooled there. Both were stained with dried blood that had splattered off my chainsaw.

"Damn it! I slipped in this shit," Nick said, causing me to turn toward him. He was picking himself off the ground with blood and flesh flecking his impeccably tailored white suit. His white face was cover with dirt and his dark hair was slicked back with the sweat that was pouring down him in rivets.

"Get up! We have a horde coming!" Rochelle yelled with a southern drawl, who was the short black girl in a pink shirt and light jeans. Her skin seemed to shine from the heat, and I could see some huge sweat stains soaking through the fabric near her breasts, armpits and back. However, I don't think that she would appreciate me noticing, so I ducked my head away.

I was going to say that I didn't hear anything till the insane yelling pierced through the air, so loud that I didn't hear the bubbling burp until it was too late. The hot wet splash of putrid smelling puke was splashed on me and Coach, the bald, fat black man in a purple shirt and beige slacks, as the Boomer boomed on us. I swung my chainsaw around and it roared as I started it, sliding quickly through the soft, fat flesh of the Boomer; causing it to explode with a wet BAM! This left his short pudgy legs to teeter for a moment before flopping to the ground and the rest of his decomposing to splatter on me. The wet, slimy skin of the Boomer slowly slid down my arm, and I had to fight off a shiver. _Damn, I hate those things,_ I think,_ always managing to sneak up on me, even though it always makes those poor indigestion sounds; reminds me a bit of Pops to tell the truth._

The screams from the zombies gained in volume as they caught the intoxicating scent of Boomer puke that drew in the zombies by the truck full. The zombies ran in an odd way, stumbling, and waving their arms like a frantic crowd trying to escape a catastrophe, like a tsunami or somethin'. Soon the zombies, who used to be people like us – Nick, Rochelle, Coach and I – were close enough for Nick and Rochelle to pelt them with shells; pistols firing. I wanted to run straight up to the delighted dead, but stayed back, waiting for Nick and Rochelle to thin the droves until I could go all at it with a frontal attack.

They finally got close enough.

As the first one, a man who would've been in business with his white button down (now splattered with the custom blood and guts) and slashed slacks, came up to me; I cordinally introduced him to my best mate. "Zombie, Chainsaw." I said calmly in my thick southern drawl, as though I was greeting the pretty Ladies that my Mama always wanted to be nice to. I revved the saw into life and said, "Chainsaw, Zombie. And Now since we've all met each other, let's kick some ZOMBIE _ASS!_" My face turned fierce, with me grinning as if it was Christmas and my eyes glittering with the thrill of the kill.

I began to laugh maniacally as the zombies fell one by one, so the air was peppered with the peal of gunshots and laughter, the roar of my chainsaw and the crazy cacophony of screams from the zombies. The zombies, unlike Boomers, were harder to kill. While their flesh is soft and easy to tear through, the bone is as dense as it is a humans'. So as I hack at the decaying deceased, the time it takes to move from one zombie to another isn't great. However, the sound of the plush flesh shredding, bone crunching, and saw whirring was truly worth the price.

"Fuck You, MOTHA FUCKA'S!" I heard Nick yell as a BOOM of a shoot-gun fires into the raucous. I truly loved that man for his fine vocabulary.

Looking around, I behead a male zombie in front of me, his gray eyes delirious with his need to kill me, and delight in the everlasting love that is Boomer bile. I laughed even harder once I saw that my comrades and I had managed to take down all the zombies. Their bodies were piled in pieces around my feet, blood and infected flesh sprayed everywhere. I took a good look at my chainsaw, and noticed that I was running low on fuel. _That's not good,_ I observe but don't really panic over since we were out of immediate danger right now. Shaking my head, I wiped the guts and goo off my face with a hand that was just as dirty. _Thank God that's done._

How wrong I was.

My laughter was cut short as a punch was thrown at my back making me stumble forward. I caught my balance quickly and whirled around, my chainsaw ready to cut into the bastard that had hit me. The female zombie, who would of been quite the tart in life, wore a torn black skirt, which for sure hid those blood stains, and a ripped open white blouse. The overall view was ruined by the fact that her left breast had been torn partially off and was hanging at an odd angle. I was thankful at that time that I had seen zombies in much worst states; I would've thrown up the vending machine cookies that I had eaten about an hour ago. Gleefully, I sliced through the ripe skin – right between the tender breast and its nearly detached partner. The woman zombies' body fell in two different pieces and to be replaced by another tart. I repeated the task over and over again as the zombies continued to spawn and replace their comrades.

I could feel my stamina flagging as I continued to get beaten and cut from all sides. (The worst was when this lump of a zombie punched a fist at my head, it collided, and the already tearing knuckles attached themselves to my skull, while the force made my brain bounce around a little.) Even with my lack of energy I would have made it though if it weren't for the terrible chugging noise that came from my chainsaw. My eyes widened and my heart galloped in my chest. I could hear the sounds of the other survivors and zombies, as if they were coming from a distance.

My chainsaw had finally run out of gas.

I tried to knock back the zombies around me, but they swallowed me whole, kicking, punching and scratching at me. Their nasty nails sliced through me, ripping me open like I had slaughtered many of their kind. They finally beat me to the ground, their breath the only things I could smell, their rotting flesh and exposed bone faces the only things I could see. The zombies swooped on me and began to munch on my flesh. The first bite resonated throughout my body. It bit deep, and it seemed as through venom was surging through my veins. I screamed horribly before I blacked out from the pain.

* * *

**Author's Note: So this is a little bit of Left 4 Dead 2 fan fiction that I made last year for class. I tweaked it a bit to make it a tad better, so I hope you enjoy. Please let me know what you think by Reviewing or PMing me, I don't mind either way. **


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